Mikhail

10

"I'll kill you!" I screamed brokenly, thrashing around as best I could.

The piercing pain in my chest worsened with each movement drawing tears to fill my eyes.

I had been captured by Mogilevich's men and drugged at the warehouse. Everything had gone black. I had woken up with a bag over my head, body strapped to an uncomfortable wooden chair. I had tried knocking it over despite the possible rib fracture I had sustained, but just before I could, someone had entered the room.

"I don't think you're able to do that right now," an unfamiliar male voice mused, footsteps nearing me.

The bag was removed from over my head, and I squinted my eyes to adjust to the light. One of Mogilevich's men was towering over me with a light smirk.

I glared and spat at him, but he remained unfazed. The suited man then moved to discard of the bag onto a table in the corner, and I realised there were several metallic tools littered on it. He was here to torture me.

The room was relatively empty and all windows hidden behind heavy curtains. Everything was covered in a very deep red, except the dark wooden floor. I recognised it as the same I had witnessed at Mogilevich's estate's sitting room, and knew exactly where I had been brought to.

"You've been a very bad girl," he continued with a chuckle, picking up something before turning back to me.

If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under. "I didn't kill one of yours, it was-" Mikhail.

"Mogilevich doesn't care about that," he smirked, "Gold and Julio are dead."

My eyes bulged out of their sockets, processing the shock of the information. I definitely hadn't killed Gold and Julio, even though it they had been on my hit-list.

"And you were lurking around Gold's property the other day," the man tsked, nearing me.

My legs were bound to the feet of the chair and my hands were strapped behind it. The lone light in the room bounced off whichever metal tool he held.

"Apparently with the intent to kill him."

"I didn't kill them," I hissed threateningly, heart racing as I realised he was holding pliers, "Julio would've died anyway, the crazy bastard. Gold is- was Wellesley's friend. There would never be a hit on him from our side."

"Are you sure?" he tilted his head down at me demeaningly. He crouched down to be on eye level with me and if he only had inched closer, I could've headbutted him.

I scoffed out a laugh and shook my head at the predicament I had gotten myself into, trying my hardest not to let him see how painful each breath was, "whatever you plan to do, don't. Wellesley will make you suffer ten times more."

"He's not here, is he?" he taunted, piercing eyes travelling over my bound body, "the last person I'm taking instructions from is you, little girl."

I seethed with fury at his demeaning tone and how he watched me as if I was a helpless and worthless piece of human rubbish. I jolted toward him threateningly and made him flinch. He only laughed.

I watched with veiled horror as he pulled out a knife from inside his suit coat and waved it in front of my face. I held my glare, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out at the burning pain in my chest. My racing heart and accelerated breaths definitely didn't help.

"And speaking of instructions," he continued, "I wasn't given any. So I'll get to have my fun with you."

"This is how you do things here?" I laughed out angrily, unable to back away from the nearing knife, "Mogilevich wouldn't blink an eye doing the same to you."